The Bone Academy
by St Pangolin
Summary: This is my first attempt at a series and it's Charlie Bone! It's set in the year 2028 and for now I'm just gonna be uploading seperate chapters written from the POVs of the character's kids. I own nothing by Jenny Nimmo and any similarities to real-life things are just coincidences. Honest! Review please and enjoy! BY ONE OF ACCOUNT'S OTHER AUTHORS
1. Chapter 1

James Yewbeam the Second

Born 6th July 2005 to Paton Yewbeam and Julia Ingeldew.

Flyer

Mum turned 70 today. She had a nice birthday. Dad wanted to throw a surprise party for her, but we reminded him that seventy-year-old ladies aren't known for their great love of surprises. Either they faint with shock or give a long, patronising speech on how their health will suffer so much because of the shock. So Dad had every right to be smug when Mum said she'd wanted a surprise party. Twenty-four years of this stuff and yet it keeps coming.

That's the thing about us and Dad. We always think we know more about her than he does, and it's very rare that we do. He actually knows the name of her old teddy bear and we don't. It's not like it's ever going to be important. WHY DOES HE KNOW THIS?

Dad hasn't ever forgotten Mum's birthday or her favourite colour. He always remembers where she put her glasses or what she wanted for Christmas. He knows her favourite book and where she likes to eat when she's really excited and every day he remembers to wish her luck in the shop.

I asked Emma about it once and apparently he wasn't always like this. Once he married Mum though, he suddenly seemed to remember it all. And at that point baby Georgia started crying and weeing and poking herself in the eye with a spoon all at once because she's a baby and therefore has amazing powers of multi-tasking, and Emma had to help Tancred out.

But after a while, I didn't need to ask her why that was. It's love. Yes, I know they're seventy and hardly likely to show that steamy romantic love you get in those books Mum refuses to read. But love isn't like that. The Greeks almost had it right by saying there's four types of love; Eros for partners, Philia for friends, Storge for family and Agape for groups of people. But they're still off the mark. Eros can be always waiting to make an advance, or a fleeting glance, remembering what you shared or just being there in case they need you. Love can be steamy and romantic but it can also be grumbling apologies you give because you know that you're expected to love each other. And then there's the love Mum and Dad have, the love every who's been married for more than ten years has. The love where you always wish each other a good day, or wear the jumper they got you for Christmas even though you hate it. Where you look for the remote with them or insist on doing the washing up because they're too tired to do it themselves. And that's the best kind of love.


	2. Chapter 2

Nancy Yewbeam

Born 28 September 2006 to Paton Yewbeam and Julia Ingeldew

Power Booster

So. I'm back. The weary traveller has returned from her journey. I make it sound like such a big deal, but I've only come back from uni.

That said, uni wasn't a piece of cake. It's not like I was just any other ordinary (cough cough *boring* cough cough) student. One gossiping teacher knows about our family and suddenly everybody has heard about the incredible Nancy Yewbeam and her amazing talent. Even if he hadn't told them, that kind of thing gets around, especially my so-called talent. I can't really find excuses for asking the lights to be turned off every lesson short of them actually knowing why.

I sometimes... I sometimes wish I was like James. He has it easy. He can actually control his endowment. He flies when he wants to fly, whereas I still dread the tinkle of glass behind me. I know I should 'cherish and be thankful for my gift' and I know he's really upset about where the flight comes from, but do you need to know where it comes from? So he's descended from one or other of the Red King's kids, but so am I, and I don't spend my time obsessing over which one.

Still, uni hasn't been all bad. My roommates eventually understood, and after a while I knew I could walk into a room and the lights would all be off, just in case. Even if that someplace was actually someone's... Well... I can't say I walked into that room unaccompanied much after the frogs. And, I learnt lots about the literature, so I got something out of the three years at Bristol. But still, I know that this still won't be easy. A degree in BA English and Classical Studies won't protect me from anything. If any angry mobs suddenly appear out of nowhere, they won't really care how clever or rich or nice you are. They care that you're different, and they'll care because different has always been wrong to them.

So we have to do what we always do in times like this. The only real option for anyone who has a secret. Hope for an oppurtunity, and in the meantime pray that other people are so rooted in their mundane lives that they don't notice. Not much to ask for anyway. People don't notice this sort of thing. We'll always just be an exaggerated rumour to them. And do you know what? That's worth coming home for.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt Torsson

Born 17 May 2013 to Tancred Torsson and Emma Tolly (of course)

Storm Bringer

So. That wasn't very... Dignified. Not quite sure what went on there. I think this could go either way. They're either incredibly impressed or absolutely appalled. Would you be surprised if I told you I was hoping for the former? No?

It's not like I wanted a thunderstorm in the house. And I know mum loves those plates, so I would never want to destroy them. And besides, all the other plates smell of burnt plastic, so I was hardly going to make an effort to use them. It just... Got a bit out of hand.

Ok, I admit it. I lost my temper. But can you blame me? I'm a storm-bringer going through puberty, you should be grateful that it doesn't happen more often. I try to keep my temper, but I've got Georgina and Paula yakking away, dad home late from the news studio and mum whizzing around my head as a thrush trying to dust. No wonder I got a bit upset. So don't go shouting at me.

It's not like I don't regret it. This is a big problem. Imagine what would happen if someone got hurt because of my storms. I'd be banged up in prison for the rest of my life. So I know it's probably just as well mum shouts. I do wish she'd stop calling me by my full name when she's cross though. I mean, Matthew Alexander Torsson? Who names their kid something like that? I mean, A) Matthew makes me sound like a Victorian aristocrat, 2) Alexander makes me sound like a Greek general and thirdly, Torsson makes me sound like a Norse god. Hardly subtle there.

And then there's the constant guilt trips. Do your friends really need to know about my latest 'temper tantrum' as you insist on calling them? Do they? I'm sure Fidelio doesn't need to be told I got cross because Paula stole my Maths book. He'd be perfectly happy if he just had no idea, and so would I. So next time you see any of your old friends, don't go spilling the beans on my outbursts, Ok?

And of course there's the punishments. Punishing all three of us is such a cheap trick, and I end up with two extremely grouchy sisters. And of course you don't punish them for their little 'acts of vengeance', or indeed for anything. They haven't quite reached the point where you stop thinking that they're adorable and start thinking they're responsible, but I have. So I'm the one in trouble always. For God's sake, Paula's 13! She is not a cute little girl any more! So can you stop taking everything out on me!


	4. Chapter 4

Paula Torsson

Born 28 March 2015 to Tancred Torsson and Emma Tolly

Unendowed

I swear to God, I am going to kill Matt.

He thinks he's got it tough. Well, he hasn't. He will never have it tough. He has the most... un-toughest life ever. He's not the one with spending their whole life coddled. I am a 13-year-old now! I am responsible. But no, Mum's constantly fawning over me. Do this, don't do that, it's not safe. Matt's fine, of course. He can go out with his stupid mates whenever he likes. And Georgina is constantly disappearing for hours on end and reappearing that evening with a pile of new rubbish in her bedroom. Mum doesn't even bat an eyelid. But no, she's still telling me to look both ways when I'm crossing the road. Never them, only me. And dad's in no state to help. I know he needs this job, but can he please acknowledge my existence for once?

And then there's Matt. He is constantly grumpy. And now, he goes and throws a strop for no reason! And I'm the one who gets punished! Why can't he be a normal person for once? Why can't anybody other than me be a normal person for once?

And that's another thing. Why am I not endowed? I am the only one in this family who isn't and it's really getting to me, no matter what I've told myself. The curse of the middle child has never been more literal.

I've spent my whole life watching my friends and family doing magic tricks and it's never bothered me at all. So why do I suddenly feel the need to do the same? It's not like I'm not special in plenty of other ways (wink wink, nudge nudge). And they haven't been mean to me about being unendowed. I sometimes wish they had been, just so I understood what's going on and so I could do something about it. But no, I'm far too pretty and clever and popular and nice and...

Sorry, I got carried away there. Still, all true, clearly. Why would I ever lie to anyone? I don't need to hide dark secrets about nocturnal habits or dead family members. And I even if I did, I'm sure I'd be great at it. I don't need hypnotic powers to convince someone that I'm innocent. I can cope perfectly fine with an endowment. They just... Complicate things, and make your life a mess. Look at mum and dad! Their life was so so tricky apparently. And the way my life is going, I'm glad it's not any more difficult.


	5. Chapter 5

Hayley Bone-Vertigo

Born 17 January 2016 to Charlie Bone and Olivia Vertigo

Picture Traveller

I would not recommend going anywhere at all near Paula right now.

She hasn't been very happy lately, as her screaming, yelling, ornament throwing rage proved. She really loved that rabbit model, so I'm surprised she had the heart to smash it. Mason'll be trying to fix it now, I suppose, the creep. He'd do anything to make her happier. Probably sell Mum. At night, I once saw him making illusions of her in his sleep. Not weird ones, because I don't think he quite understands that yet, but still illusions and still often featuring her confessing her deep adoration for him, the manly hunk that he believes himself to be. So, I'm guessing that the love machine's burning passion is some consolation.

She really struggles, you know. Being unendowed. It must be a burden, watching me all with my crummy pictures and knowing you can't do anything about it. I reckon she's a bit jealous, but you'd never get her to admit it. She's always seemed so easy-going and relaxed about it. If anyone's jealous, I'm jealous of how nice she always is about it.

And she always hates it when Matt's in trouble. Again, she'd never admit it but she loves him. That makes one of us. I don't like seeing him punished, not because he's in trouble but because Paula will always get so upset without even realizing. I remember one time I asked her about it and she completely lost her rag defending herself. It's about the only time I know of her getting cross with me, or anyone.

She's always been a nice girl and a great friend, so seeing her so sad is worrying. She always wants to believe she's alright, but nobody can always be alright. I've learnt that when people claim they're fine, most of the time they're doing it to reassure both you and themselves they are. So that's why you've always got to try and cheer people who are supposedly fine up. Either they're upset and they'll soon be happy or they're happy and they'll soon be happier. There is never a bad consequence to being kind. Unless the recipient is a sibling or rather immature dad like mine, or they'll never let you hear the end of it.


	6. Chapter 6

Georgina Yewbeam

Born 11 May 2016 to Tancred Torsson and Emma Tolly

Flyer

Sometimes I really hate my dad.

I mean, of all the strange and wonderful things he could have been, a storm-bringer? A STORM-BRINGER? What the hell? What happens to all the vulnerable little birds like me? And then, he marries mum, so I'm the one who has to live with him. And just to top it off, he brings Matt into this world, an action I know I would really regret. Great, another storm-bringer to throw my frail little self about. Tell you what, why don't you just look me up in a dungeon with no food, company or water. You could flood I too if you like. It would be a lot safer. Maybe I'd actually live past my thirteenth birthday. What a momentous occasion that would be. I could finally die happy in the knowledge that I managed to survive a whole thirteen years in this family.

I know it's not his fault but he ruined my life simply by having me. But now he's done that, he's hardly even here to say sorry. I mean, why does he stay behind? Does he find it hard being a weatherman? But no, thanks for reminding me, he literally makes weather. Does he work overtime bringing coffee to other newsreaders? Does he find something in the weather department particularly fascinating? Does he go to little parties down the pub with his old friends and not tell us? If so, urrgh. I don't want my dad drunk under any circumstances, even if I do hate him.

I must say, I like the idea of him bringing extra coffee to the newsreaders ("no milk, seventeen sugars, Mr Torsson") but when I asked mum, all she said was "Your father has to do a lot of work, Georgina. More than he realized. It's a lot less easy than you think." What's that supposed to mean? And if anyone's working hard it's me. I'm the one who volunteers to clean out the parakeet enclosure at the zoo for mum. It's not like I need to or anything, I'm just being nice. It's not like I want to either. The piles of parrot poo are colossal. I could easily just give up on it and let mum work as hard as me. But I don't because I'm too nice. I'm far too generous and kind to ever sink to their level. Because someone around here needs to keep the balance between order and chaos. No one else is gonna do it.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter Sage

Born 23 July 2016 to Lysander Sage and Lauren Whatsaname

Spirit Caller

I like to think of myself as living proof that you can get it right with one attempt.

Yes, I'm an only child, but with me, you don't need any siblings. I'm smart, I'm bright, I'm witty and athletic and handsome and charismatic and...

It's not arrogance, it's high self-esteem, self-motivation. Very different things, I'm sure you'll agree. People generally do.

I'm so good, I am completely incredible even without my endowment. I mean, who ever needs to call up African warriors? It's just another extra skill that makes me so great and happy a person.

Dad wasn't quite so sure about this, but then, he's like that all the time. Disagreeing, pretending to be grumpy. For a fully grown man he isn't half childish sometimes. "Sometimes it's like living with a five-year-old," mum said once, but she was laughing as she said it. "It's a good job he straightens up in court or he'd never get anything done. Daft as a brush, that man. Now get lost, I need to check the moussaka."

So that's why the bad mood was such a surprise. He just went around to see his mate Tancred and comes back all upset. I know sometimes things don't go well between them, but I can't pretend it wasn't a shock. He's always seemed so cheerful. The only time I ever saw him really upset was when Grandpa got skin cancer and got annoyed because he was expected to stay in a retirement home.

So he needs a bit of space, apparently. And I understand that, I do. But I still miss that immature man who disappeared yesterday. I miss the pouting face he made when mum made lasagna because he hates it. I miss the sight of him trying to fit on the trampoline and slipping over every time he jumped. And I miss the little sly winks he gave me when nobody was looking. I don't even know why he did it. Did this come naturally or did he have to make an effort? And if so, why? No-one else remembers anything like this before my life, and nobody seems to know why it happened, or at the very least, they won't tell me. All I know is, they say he's changed, and I agree. But when I told them that I had noticed, they just said that wasn't what they'd meant. So not everyone agrees with me. But what can you do?


	8. Chapter 8

Cameron Brown

Born 28 November to Benjamin Brown

Unendowed

If we were a normal family, I probably wouldn't be writing this. I would have a different mum and dad, and I wouldn't have any brothers or sisters, or I'd have even more. I'd have lighter hair or darker it might not. I'd have blue eyes, or brown, or green, or grey. I might be taller or shorter, older or younger, cleverer or stupider. I might be called George or Nigel. I might be dead or ill. I probably wouldn't be the same Cameron Brown.

I guess what I'm trying to say is we're not normal, really, and we could be so many things if were. But I suppose I'm probably lucky. I've got to think about the others. All my friends and their families, I mean. Compared to them, we're normal... Ish. They could be a lot more normal than us, and that's a shame.

Being normalish has its advantages. Normalish people aren't noticed by anyone who knows about the War. Normalish people aren't slapped and called rather select names by bullies. Normalish people don't have to worry about magic getting out of hand. So I know I'm lucky.

I always talk to Cook when I can. She once told me that she was once the lodestone, and had to keep the balance. She was supposedly the one keeping the Bloors from causing chaos. And I can see that. She radiates peace and tranquility. Probably some sort of endowment, peace or charisma or something. But now the Bloors are gone, she doesn't seem to have anything to do. When I asked her about this, she just said her job hasn't changed. I was smaller at the time and didn't understand but now I know the world isn't just divided into good people and the Bloors. She still has to help the endowed stay safe from anyone who wants to control them. And I think we've got to do the same. The unendowed, I mean. We've got to keep them safe from themselves. Nobody wants a thunderstorm walking down the street but it's still a danger. We've got to bring them down to earth, make them a bit more normal. Maybe my family aren't the best people for the job, but no one else will do it. So we do it. We keep them normalish. And that's why we're not a normal family.


End file.
